Ghost System Novels & Stories

"A ghost baby?" Vera and Brandon traded glances with each other. This was their first time hearing of such a thing. "Cassian, what exactly is a ghost baby?" Brandon asked curiously. Cassian answered, "There are three types of ghost babies in this world. The first ghost baby is formed because its mother has gone through an abortion or a miscarriage. Since the fetus is either undeveloped or has newly developed, its spirit isn't accepted by the afterlife. Because of that, the fetus's spirit continues to linger in this world, so it eventually transforms into a ghost and sticks to its mother's side.

Monitors I couldn't see but somehow felt - graphs didn't spike. They shattered. "Biological Class: Error." Automated voice flat, inexorable. System never programmed for humility. "Ancestry: Non-existent. Mana Core: Critical Mass. Entity Status: Unquantifiable." "It's not recognizing her!" Junior Healer again, voice breaking upward into panic registers. Watching understanding of reality peel like old paint. "System thinks she's ghost - no, Revenant! Trying to categorize dead and alive simultaneously! Binary can't hold! Logic gates are-"

The chair squealed when she sat, and she startled, laughed at herself, and then didn’t, because the laugh felt like a bird hitting a window. She pulled up Venom’s live transponder on the internal screen. A blue dot trudged the perimeter. A second dot—Blade—hovered near the south gate. Ghost was a phantom until he wanted not to be, but his devices left polite footprints when you knew how to read the snow. Velia found one of his little ghosts sleeping in the network, smiled, and left it a digital candy. It stole it and left her a middle finger in return. “I see you,” she whispered to the screen, and it comforted her to be seen back, however rudely.

They can light up satellites, call in drones, plead on live TV—it won’t matter. This place isn’t even on the grid. I made sure of it. Miles of forest surround us. And within them? Men in uniform. Hired ghosts. Ex-agents, ex-police. People who owe me, and know better than to ask questions. Noel—my ghost in cyberspace—rerouted everything. Calls. Signals. IP traces. They’re chasing smoke. She’s a ghost now. As if someone who was a crown now turned into a bubble, but in my ecosystem, so whenever she condensed. She precipitates again in my arms. Classic.

"I'm the version of you that didn't make it out of the lab fire in the first draft, Hazel. I'm the one they deleted because I was too angry to control. I’ve been living in the trash bin of this system for a long time." "She’s a Ghost Program," Silas said, stepping forward. He looked tired, his silver eyes dimming. "The Board thinks they wiped her, but you can’t kill a memory that wants revenge this badly. She’s the one who’s been sending the glitches. She’s the one who opened the door for you." "I don't care who she is," Bryan said, pulling me closer to him. He looked at the flaming wings with suspicion. "We need to get to the exit. The Eraser is already putting itself back together."

This feels lighter, automatic—like stepping where the ground has already been mapped. They call me Ghost. It simplifies things. Ghosts don’t leave witnesses. Or questions. Or pieces of themselves behind. Conversation thins as I pass. People shift their feet. I registered the looks without meeting them. Curiosity from the younger ones. Calculation from the handlers. And something closer to superstition from everyone else. I am twenty-two years old. I’ve been killing since I was fourteen. The numbers don’t settle into pride or shame. They sit like inventory. A medic steps aside as I pass. His eyes drop to the insignia stitched inside my collar—black thread on gray. Ghost-class comes without ra

He replied, "How the ghost died and encountered the system is irrelevant. No matter how stupid it sounds, the ghost is already a half-host. For sure, it's looking for a vessel so it can complete its missions and then take revenge. The problem is, it is currently inside your friend's mind." If the people in the room were not immoral hosts, they might have lost their wits and calm at this point. It was probably a good thing for each of them that they had been dealing with things impossible to process through normal brains. They easily accepted the situation and understood its severity.

He opened and turned pages and finally stopped at a specific page. "Is this what it looked like?" He asked, pointing at a ghostly image on the book page. "Yes. They can't be eliminated, two guards are already dead and their faces were blue.. icy blue. Samuel is attempting to hold them off but I doubt he can," "They are cathas, spirits of the forgotten. They were offended. Someone must have done something to wake them, cathas don't appear unless their resting place was disturbed by someone, and the person is usually from the place they appeared. '' Said Robert.

I call ghost, he got more than one skill, and opening closed-door virtual and real ones are one of his many skills. He uses his key locks tools and messes with the door for a bit until it opens. Finally, I walk down with ghost behind me, I find a small girl laying naked on the floor. She's thin, too thin, her blond hair match mine only hers is dirty and matted on her head. Her blue eyes are hardly open, I can see bruises all over her fragile body. Taking off my shirt I cover her quickly and pick her up leaving this hell behind. "You're safe now baby sister" I whisper in her ears she closes her eyes letting darkness take her.

-he thought. Then he quickly went inside. Now, the White Space was silent and white. … After being taken from Maley's space, Olivia lost consciousness. Not only did this problem happen to Olivia, but it also happened to all the other members chosen by the deities that governed the ten spaces. “It happens all the time, right?” Pure looked at the thirteen young recruits lying on the bed and sighed deeply. She was depressed. Every time, just after selecting the representative, all the young recruits fell asleep.